


I can see a better time (when all our dreams come true)

by serenityandtea



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Surrogacy, The rest of the boys are in it as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityandtea/pseuds/serenityandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Nick and Harry both want a baby, and Fiona is there to help them out.</p><p>  <i>“I want a baby.”</i></p><p>  <i>“You know that’s not something we can just do, right?” He flicks the stove a bit lower, and turns around to face Nick. “You can’t just knock me up.”</i></p><p>  <i>“I know that,” Nick huffs. “But I still want one.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I can see a better time (when all our dreams come true)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harryhanlon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryhanlon/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS, ZEE! 
> 
> This was supposed to be something short and sweet, but it kinda ran away with me and it turned out to be 7K with a bit of added angst, I guess. STILL, I hope you enjoy this. I thought 'what would Zee like?', and I hope I didn't get it wrong with Harry, Nick, Fiona and a lot of talk about babies? And a tiny dash of BFF!Niall. Just because.  
> Also, this story takes place somewhere in the not-so-distant future.
> 
> To you all; happy holidays and I hope you all have an amazing 2015.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story. Please don't read if you know or are one of the people mentioned in this work of fiction. Title from (my favourite Christmas song) 'New York Fairytale' by the Pogues.

“I want a baby.”

Harry’s head snaps up from where he's stirring mushrooms around in a pan. Nick’s staring right back at him from the dinner table, a serious look on his face. Harry sighs. 

“You know that’s not something we can just do, right?” He flicks the stove a bit lower, and turns around to face Nick. “You can’t just knock me up.”

“I know that,” Nick huffs. “But I still want one.”

“You also wanted that Tom Ford bag last week, and yesterday you decided you could do without one and got a McQueen instead.”

“But this is a baby and not a bag. Pay attention Harold. We should get one.”

It isn’t the first time they're having this talk, but Harry always imagined they were talking about five or ten years in the future. He’s only twenty two, and when he thinks about babies, he thinks about the two of them all settled down in a country house with no other responsibilities but their family. Not about having a baby while still touring, and Nick still working at the BBC. They aren’t even married yet. Shouldn’t they do that before even thinking about kids?

“We can’t just ‘get one’, love.”

The mushrooms are shrivelling in the pan but maybe this time it’s worth it. Especially if Nick has obviously made up his mind. 

“I know that too,” Nick smiles at him, and Harry walks over to sit on his lap. Nick’s arms come around his waist and hold him tight. “You always said you wanted kids, Haz. Don’t you want to anymore?”

“’Course I want kids. With you. But don’t you think we should get married first? And like, what about our jobs? I can’t just take a kid with me on tour... Or like, I don’t think I can. I should ask-” 

“I’ll marry you if that’s what you want,” Nick blurts out, interrupting him and Harry stares at him, wide eyed. 

“‘If that’s what you want’,” Harry mocks him, poking one finger in Nicks ribs. “Worst proposal ever. If you even can consider it a proposal, honestly. Is that how you want it to be in the papers? What do I even tell Denise when she congratulates us and asks me how you proposed?”

“Denise?”

“That girl at Sugarscape. Anyway, ‘well Denise, we were in the kitchen, talking about how we should get married before having kids, and then my Nick said oh-so romantically: ‘I'll marry you if that’s want you want,” Harry says in his proper Nick-impression. “Proper romantic isn’t it, Denise? And then he grabbed the lid of the coke can and used that as an engagement ring-”

“All right, all right, enough you menace,” Nick interrupts, and Harry laughs into Nick’s shoulder. “You’ve made your point. Too bloody good for a casual proposal, I get it.”

“You can try it again tomorrow,” Harry says with a grin and he gets up from his spot, turning his attention back to the stove. 

“I’ll do it when you least expect it, popstar. It will be so over the top that you’ll be sorry you even told me off. Then you can tell Denise that it’s your own bloody fault for not saying yes the first time.”

Harry doesn’t react, just hums and keeps stirring in the pan. 

He can’t wait.

*

They do talk about it a bit more after dinner. Harry’s trying get reading for some press thing, and Nick is lounging on their bed, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. 

Nick argues that he’s already thirty-two and that he should really get a move on if he doesn’t want his child to refer to him as ‘the ancient one’. Harry claims (while trying to button up a ridiculous top) that it’s impossible to raise a kid when he’s on the other side of the world most of the year. Yes, touring has slightly slowed down but probably not enough to even think about starting a family right now. He does want to though. Maybe even more than Nick does. 

Harry sighs resigned. “How do you want to do this then? Adoption?”

“What? Wait- are you serious?”

“Course ‘m serious, have I ever joked about babies?”

“No.” Nick is staring at him with wide eyes, suspiciously glassy, and he’s hovering a glass of wine above their side table, unsure whether to put it down or drink.

“We’ll talk tonight when I’m back, all right?”

*

The interview (and drinks with the boys afterwards) takes forever, and when Harry stumbles in around two, the whole flat is pitch dark. He tries his best to stay quiet when he gets undressed while Nick is softly snoring. It’s a weeknight so Nick has to get up in a few hours, and Harry knows that. However, he still manages to trip over a pair of stray boots and wake Nick up in the process

“Haz?”

“Sssh, go back to sleep.”

He slides in next to the other man, Nick hissing when Harry presses his cold toes against his calves. 

“Time s’it?”

“Twoish. Go to sleep, love.”

“Wanna talk babies.”

Harry hides his grin in Nicks shoulder. “We’ll talk babies tomorrow, kay love?”

Nick hums sleepily and Harry tucks himself a bit closer. Tomorrow. 

*

“I was thinking about a surrogate?”

“Oh.” Harry shifts a bit on the sofa, getting his legs tangled up with Nick’s. 

“What were you thinking then?” Nick doesn’t look upset or disappointed but Harry still somewhat feels a tang of guilt when he says “Adoption”.

“Oh.”

“It’s just like, adoption is a lot easier?” Harry starts and Nick raises his eyebrow. “Not that it’s easy! But like, finding a surrogate who isn’t going to sell us out to the press or something is going to be extremely hard. I don’t want some stranger, you know. Not when it could go completely wrong somehow.”

“That makes sense,” Nick replies. “But what if we found someone that we know and trust?”

Harry knows Nick like the back of his hand, and he can see right through him. “You already know someone.”

“No. Maybe? Like, I haven’t asked them yet but there is someone, yeah.”

“Do I know them?” Nick hums in reply. “It’s not one of the girls, right? Not Eleanor or Sophia or Perrie right? Because Liam would kill you if you even suggested knocking his girlfriend up.”

Zayn and Louis probably would as well. 

“No worries,” Nick grins. “No manslaughter necessary.”

“Do you trust this person?”

“Yes. With everything.”

“Do I get a name?” Harry asks teasingly.

Nick looks sheepish, hand scratching the back of his neck. “No? Because I know that once you’ve set your sights on something you get all disappointed and sad when it doesn’t work out. I really don’t want you mad with this person so I’ll tell you when I know more, all right?”

Harry has his doubts, but this is Nick and he’d never do anything that Harry wouldn’t agree at least eighty per cent with. So this person is probably a right fit. “All right. But you’re telling me as soon as she’s said yes. And you’re asking it this week because I’ll be in the Americas after next week and I can’t have you postponing it forever. I wanna see them before I leave.”

“Course, love.” Nick cuddles him against his chest. “We sure about this then? What about work?”

“I could take her with me. If Lou can do it, so can I.” Only Lou did it with her husband right beside her, and not on the opposite side of the world. “And you could come on tour sometime. Dunno. We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

“All right, Daddy.”

*

Harry figures he has to inform the boys as well to some extent. He thinks they’ll support him, but it could make touring quite difficult, and Harry somehow feels like they should get a say in the matter as well. Perhaps. 

They’re at tour rehearsals, polishing their last few songs before leaving for North-America next week. Halfway through, they’re having a break; Louis and Zayn just returned from their smoke, and Harry clears his throat nervously. Four pairs of eyes meet his, and it doesn’t really go according to plan because suddenly he blurts out “Nick and I are having a baby.”

Niall drops the mic he’s still holding, and Liam opens his mouth a few times before shutting it without making a sound. 

“Congratulations?” Louis says softly and Harry feels like he can breathe again. 

“Thanks.” He scrapes his throat. “Like, nothing’s sure yet but Nick wants to, I want to too, and I just feel like you guys should know, so you can like, tell us that you don’t want us to before we have one? Not like it’s gonna be your baby but it’s still a bit yours-”

“Hazza, babe, you’re rambling,” Zayn speaks up and he’s smiling. That’s good. 

“Are you sure?” Liam asks. Louis elbows him in the ribs, and hisses “have you even met Harry? Of course he’s sure.”

“Yeah, we are. Nick’s looking into surrogates right now. Hopefully somebody wants to...”

“Are you quitting the band?”

Niall’s question rings through the room, all heads snapping up. Harry blanches and he squeezes his eyes shut. He should have seen this coming. They want him to quit. Maybe they don’t want a dad in the group; that must be bad for sales. Still, he’s part of the band too, and he’s not quitting anytime soon if he has anything to say about it.

“Uhm, no? Like, unless you want me to, then I guess-”

“We don't want you to,” Louis says, glaring at Niall.

“Oh. Good.”

 

*

Harry’s stuffing things in a suitcase, multiple suitcases actually, when Nick walks into the bedroom with a big grin on his face. 

“She said yes.”

“What?” Harry asks incredulous and he stops packing. 

“Well, she didn’t really say yes per se, but it wasn’t a direct no. She wants to talk to you first though. So you better up that charm a bit because this our future baby were talking about.”

Nick sounds serious and Harry’s heart is thumping in his chest. This is actually happening, he has to remind himself. They want this.

“But I’m going away tomorrow... Like, maybe I could come home next week? There’s a day off between Pittsburgh and this other city, so I could come and talk to her, and leave the same evening? It's gonna be hard-”

“She’s in the sitting room, love,” Nick interrupts and Harry’s mouth clamps shut. Oh. 

“Oh. Is it- should I... Are you sure?”

“Bloody sure. Now, smile, and talk a lady into having our baby.”

*

Fiona. It’s Fiona. 

Harry had been close to tears when she said yes, gripping Nicks hands so tight that the fingertips were turning white. Nick didn’t give a kick. 

Nick is in charge of the official hospital stuff while Harry focuses on all the legal bits that he can read into on tour.

Harry thinks he doesn’t have any nails to bite left.

Fiona is going to be a _mum_ and Nick and he are going to be _dads_.

*

“When are you coming home?”

Harry’s curled up in his bunk, phone in front of his face and Facetiming Nick with his headphones in. He knows Niall is in the bunk below him, softly talking to his mum; both of them trying not to disturb the other. 

“I don’t know? Probably not for like, two weeks at least? Why?”

“Because Fifi’s got an appointment in the hospital next week, and I thought you might wanna come?”

“Yeah, would’ve loved to,” Harry sighs sadly. He wants to, but he can’t miss a show. Not in their first week anyway. 

“It’s all right, love. It’s just some tests, I’m sure you won’t miss a lot. I’ll go and call you from there, kay?”

“Yeah. Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too, popstar.”

Niall seems to sense something is not right, and cuddles right up next to him as soon as Harry has hung up. Niall sweeps into his arms and holds him tight even after Harry falls asleep.

*

Fiona’s appointment goes fine; Harry gets the text right before he’s about to go on stage in front of sixty-thousand people. Harry’s excited, grinning all throughout their performance that night. When he gets off stage, he runs into the backstage area and is on the phone with Nick in but a few seconds.

“We’re really doing it, yeah?” he asks right away, and Nick sighs fondly back at him.

“Yes, we are. Or like, almost.”

Harry’s excitement immediately lessens. “Almost?” he inquires, voice small and Zayn throws him a look from across the room. Harry waves him off.

“Nothing serious, love,” Nick reassures him. “Fifi’s gotten the all clear. It’s just us that need to be tested now, all right? So as soon as you’re back, we’ll go to the hospital and see-” 

“You do it.” It’s out before Harry can even properly think it through.

“What?”

“You. You do the tests.”

“Hazza...” Now it’s Nick’s voice that’s all soft, and Harry squeezes his eyes shut, willing his tears to stay back.

“It should be you, yeah?” he replies roughly. “It should be yours. I want it to be yours.”

“Don’t you think we should talk a bit more about this?” Nick is hesitant, but now that Harry’s got the idea in his head, he can’t let it go.

Niall sits down next to him, mumbling something like ‘five minutes’, and Harry nods back while simultaneously taking a deep breath.

“If you want, sure. But I want it to be yours. So much.”

He’s not even sure if he can explain it, but somehow the _idea_ of a little Nick running around with Fiona’s nose is all the can think about. Maybe it’ll even have some of those lovely curls that she has; still look a bit like him as well.

“Yeah, all right.” 

“If you don’t want- Oh. All right?” Niall’s grip is firm on his leg, and Harry knows that he can hear -has heard- part of their conversation. It doesn’t bother him one bit.

“All right. But you’re getting the next one.” Harry can tell that Nick’s trying to sound like it isn’t a bit deal, but it _is_ , and Harry smiles softly, letting his head drop on Niall’s shoulder.

“Done.”

* 

It’s almost a week later that he gets a text from Nick with just ‘went 2 the hospital. got the all clear. made a baby-making appointment for friday’. Harry can’t wait until he’s able to fly home in four days.

He giggles when he sends a message back, and Louis shoots him an annoying look from where he’s watching Game of Thrones with Liam.

_strt saving up ur jizz!!_

* 

Harry doesn’t make it home four days.

Management has planned some interview somewhere in Ohio, and if the boys pick up on his horrible mood, they don’t say anything.

Nick tells him it doesn’t matter and that he’ll be all right by himself, but Harry still feels like he’s already letting his kid down.

* 

That Friday, Harry can’t stop staring at this phone.

Throughout the morning, Liam keeps reminding him of time zones; how Nick is still asleep and the hospital probably isn’t even _open_ yet. At lunch time, Louis kicks him softly in the shins and tells him to just ‘fucking text him already’. When they’re all back on the bus later that afternoon, Harry thinks that everybody is probably ready to kick him out of the band if the looks are anything to go by.

The movie they’re watching has just started when Harry’s phone chimes from his pocket. Immediately, all eyes are on him, but Harry just freezes. What if he picks up and it’s Nick saying that his sperm of whatever isn’t good enough? What if the hospital declares them unfit to have children? Can they even do that? God, what if Fiona has backed out?

He doesn’t even realize that there’s a hand in his pocket that isn’t his, and he only slightly snaps back into focus when Niall starts mumbling reassurances in his ear. He hadn’t even noticed his breathing becoming laboured, but his hand on somehow on Zayn’s chest and it’s doing wonders. In and out, in and out.

“Sorry to disappoint, but this is Louis speaking.”

Harry sees Zayn kick him in the leg and hissing a ‘be nice!’, and Harry’s head clears a bit, the pressure from his lungs fading slightly.

“Oh. Uhm- do you want me to put Curly on?”

It’s weird, listening to just a one-sided conversation, and he almost wants to ask Louis to put it on speakerphone. Problem is, his voice isn’t really cooperating. 

“Dunno- I think it’s a panic attack?” Zayn nods at Louis. “Definitely a panic attack. I can try though? Gimme a sec.”

Louis crawls forward to the sofa, his hands coming up to Harry’s knees and he squeezes, making Harry turn his attention to him.

“You all right?” Louis asks and Harry nods. Not really, but he knows it’s Nick on the phone and he _needs_ him. “Do you think you can help Nick out? He’s at the hospital and he needs your... help.”

Harry can see Louis’ nose turn up in distaste, and Niall tries to hide his laughing by coughing loudly.

“Oh,” Harry breathes, and he stares at the phone in Louis’ hand. “Like, help help?”

“Yes, help help, Harold,” Louis sighs, and he presses the phone in his hand. Nick’s breathing is soft in his ear, and Harry feels the last part of his panic ebb away.

“Hi,” he whispers. Liam groans next to him, and Louis closes his eyes while sticking his fingers in his ear.

“Hiya, love,” Nick replies, and his voice echoes a bit over the line. “You ready to do your part in this baby-making?”

Harry nods before he realises that Nick can’t see him. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

Zayn tries to shoo him off the couch, fingers poking in Harry’s rib, and Harry tries to slap them away while still paying attention to whatever Nick is saying.

“Well, you could start by telling me what you’re wearing...” 

It only takes Harry five seconds before he’s off the couch and into one of the bunks.

* 

When they’re seven weeks into the tour, they finally manage to get a few days off for Christmas and New Years. Harry’s completely buzzing when the plane touches down at Heathrow airport the day before Christmas Eve.

He sends of a quick text to Nick when they’re all piled in the car to tell him he’s almost home, and if Nick could please fix him some food since it’s been ages since he’s had some proper home-cooked meal. It’s only seconds later that his phone buzzes with a reply: ‘quiche in the oven. took me a whole day, u better appreciate it, popstar’.

Harry doesn’t reply, but presses his smiling face in the crook of Niall’s neck.

“You excited to go home?” Niall whispers to him and Louis’ feet entangle with his.

“Yeah. This could be like, _it_ , you know? Like, the last Christmas with just the two of us...”

“You heard anything from Fiona yet?” Zayn asks, head pressed against the window.

“No, not yet... Nick says I shouldn’t be so impatient, but I mean, it can’t hurt to call her, right? They did the whole baby-making thing four weeks ago,” Liam snorts and Harry crosses his eyes at him before continuing. “And like, shouldn’t she know more by now?”

“Call her tonight then,” Louis mumbles sleepily, and after that, the car stays silent. 

Harry is the first one to get dropped off, and he stumbles out of the car, trailing his suitcase behind him. Before he can even knock on the front door, Nick’s already standing in the opening.

“Hiya, love,” Nick greets him softly, and he wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry lets himself be tugged inside, and he’s immediately hit with the smell of home.

“Hi,” he mumbles against Nick’s neck, and then he’s pushed down on the sofa.

“Do you wanna kip first or dinner first?”

Harry’s eyes are however focused on the tree in the corner. “Did you put up a Christmas tree?”

“I- Pay attention,” Nick reprimands him from the doorway. “Do you wanna sleep first or do you want a bit of quiche?”

“You got me a Christmas tree?” 

“I didn’t get you anything. I got that tree all for myself,” Nick scoffs from the kitchen. Half a minute later he comes walking back into the sitting room, two plates balanced in his hand.

“You hate putting up Christmas trees,” Harry says gleefully, grabbing one of the plates.

“I do not.”

“Thank you, love you,” Harry whispers while he takes a bite. 

“Love you too. Glad you’re home, Haz.”

Harry falls asleep halfway through, his fork hovering over his plate, and his eyes drooping low. 

“Wanna go to bed?” Nick asks him softly, grabbing both of their plates and putting them on the coffee table.

“Wanna talk to you,” Harry mumbles in reply, but he doesn’t put up a fight when Nick tucks his arms under his knees and lifts him off the sofa.

He’s asleep before they’re even halfway up the stairs.

* 

Harry stirs when a hand trails through his curly locks, and he nuzzles his face into the hand that’s petting him.

“Hi Harry.” The voice is soft and female, and Harry scrunches his nose in confusion; definitely not Nick then. “How’re you? You still tired?”

“Fi?” Harry asks sleepily, and a hand tightens on his arm. “Where’s Nick?”

“Left him on the sofa with a bottle of wine. Just wanted a little chat, that all right?”

He’s instantly more awake, his left hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while he stretches his spine simultaneously. The crack that follows makes Fiona wince, and Harry apologises sleepily.

“Whatya wanna talk about?” He pets the space next to him, and Fiona graciously accepts, lying down.

She’s quiet for a bit, and Harry softly pets her hair.

“I got my period this morning,” Fiona whispers into his skin, and Harry’s breathing catches in his throat. There’s no follow-up to that statement, but he knows what that means. He’s read all the information there possibly is on the internet in between concerts, interviews, and press releases, and he knows her having her period means there’s no baby.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay, love. We still got plenty of chances. We’ll just have to do it again, and again, and again, until one time it doesn’t fail. We knew it might not work the first time, right?”

Harry nods. “Right,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. Of course, he knew it probably wouldn’t work the first time. Still, there had been this hope, this _wish_ , that it would, and that life would just follow their rules for just a while.

“We could even try yours, see if that works a bit quicker?” Fiona asks, and if it had been any other situation, Harry would have jumped at the chance to make a sperm joke. This is however his sperm they’re talking about, and it’s not really joking-material right now.

“No, it has to be Nick,” Harry replies, and Fiona doesn’t argue with him; just snuggles a bit closer.

When they walk into the sitting room half an hour later, Nick is staring red-eyed at him. However, there’s still that soft smile on his face that Harry likes to claim as his own, and when the tree of them cuddle up on the couch and get drunk on whiskey that evening, Harry figures that they’ll be fine.

*

Unfortunately, the holidays go quicker than both Nick and Harry hoped for. Harry is all bundled up in his coat, and sort of ready to leave again for South America. He just wishes he wasn’t hangover, didn’t have a hickey the size of small table tennis ball under his scarf, and wasn’t clinging so much to Nick.

“Call me when you’ve got a new appointment, all right?” Harry reminds Nick, and the older man rolls his eyes.

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t forget. Dunno if I can even get off without your voice, to be honest. There’s like, all those trashy magazines, and pale-blue walls, and I have no idea how anybody could be comfortable spilling their load there.”

Harry’s still a bit upset that he won’t be there for the next appointment as well, but it’s another three weeks of non-stop touring, and he wants this process to go as quick as possible. Sometimes he feels bad that just because they’ve got the money, they’ve got special privileges and are able to move the whole thing a lot quicker than normally possible. 

*

He gets Fiona’s call four weeks later, before they’re about to go on stage in Ontario, and he only has a short cry on Liam’s shoulder before their intro music starts.

* 

Five weeks after that, it’s Nick who calls him on Skype. Harry feels like his whole world is crumbling, but he tries to remind himself that it’s _only_ their third try, and sometimes it takes twelve times before somebody gets pregnant. He had just hoped that wouldn’t be them.

“Should we just give up?”

“No!” Nick replies immediately, and his eyes look sad. “We’re not giving up, Haz. Even if it takes a bloody year, we’re not giving up, okay?”

“No, I know,” Harry sighs, twirling a part of the covers around his fingers. “I just get so excited every month, and then there’s nothing, and you’re over there and I’m here and I can’t even come to the appointments because of stupid interviews, and I wish I could do more and not sit here like a fecking-” 

“Stop right there,” Nick interrupts and when Harry looks up at the screen again, his eyes are blazing. “Your interviews or tour aren’t stupid: it’s your work. And we knew before we started this that you’d be gone a lot, but that’s okay. No matter what, I still love you, and I still want kids with you, and whether that is next month or next year, _I don’t care_. If I hear you say one more time that you’re just sitting there while I’m doing the important stuff, I’m gonna come over there and do something. Not sure what. You’ve done so, so much. Your lawyers are working overtime. You know exactly what you want out of this, and how you want this. You’ve already got most of the adoption papers ready, and Fifi isn’t even pregnant yet. You’re amazing, love. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I miss you,” Harry sobs, and he just wants to be _home_.

“I know, love. Miss you too.”

*

Nick flies over for a weekend, and Harry clings to him like he’s his lifeline. They don’t go out much, just stay inside their hotel room for a couple of days, and when Nick flies back to London, Harry feels more calm and rested than he has in weeks.

*

Nick has his third appointment in the hospital a week later, and Harry stays on the phone with him the whole time. It makes him feel like he’s at least contributing something, even if he’s currently across the ocean. When he hears Nick hand over his cup with a cheery ‘lemme know if you need more’, he can’t help but laugh out loud and wake Zayn up because of it.

*

The European leg of the tour starts six weeks later, and somehow Harry feels closer to home than he has in a while. They won’t be in Great Britain for a long time -not until June and that’s still four months away- but Europe has this familiar feeling. Even better is the fact that he’s almost in the same time zone as Nick and Fiona, and he doesn’t let that opportunity go wasted by texted them every hour.

They’re in Germany, and Harry’s out for some coffee with Zayn. It’s a quiet coffee shop, nothing like the Starbucks across the road, and Harry hasn’t seen Zayn so relaxed since the beginning of the tour.

It’s quiet and _them_ -time, until Harry’s phone starts buzzing from the table.

“I’m sorry,” Harry groans and he turns it to silence without sparing it a look. “I know we said no phones today.”

“You might wanna answer that one, though,” Zayn says with a grin on his face, and when Harry eyes the screen, his hands start shaking. _fifiiii._

“Hi?” he almost-whispers, and it’s completely normal for Fiona to call him, but it’s been six weeks since their last hospital visit, and his heart is pounding in his chest.

“Hey daddy,” Fiona replies, and if the headlines claim tomorrow that Harry Styles had a breakdown in the middle of a coffee shop while sobbing on his bandmate’s shoulder, that’s totally fine.

_He’s going to be a dad._

*

Harry’s ecstatic and Nick’s completely over the moon.

Harry flies home in between two German cities, and even if he only gets to spend five hours at home, it’s still five hours of holding Nick’s hand, and rubbing Fiona’s stomach. She doesn’t even tell him he’s weird once he starts talking in soft whispers to her non-existent bump, and Harry’s confident that they picked the best person _ever_ to be their surrogate.

*

Most of his days off are now centred around flying back home -even if it’s just for a few hours or a day-and none of the boys tell him off for leaving almost two times a week.

Niall is the first one to give them a gift, handing him a package with a sheepish grin on his face.

“’s a guitar for the baby,” he mumbles and Harry almost squishes Niall to death when he hugs him. 

*

It hits Harry during a meet-and-greet in Paris, right after a girl introduces herself to them, and he apologises quickly during their short break. 

There’s a dial tone in ear before he has even properly found himself a quiet spot, and when Nick picks up with a “Haz?” he just blurts it out.

“We have to name our baby.”

Nick clearly snorts on the other side of the line. “Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Harry exclaims. “We’re having a baby, and we need to pick a name for them because that’s what parents do, and _we’re going to have to pick a name._ ”

“All right, take a deep breath, love,” Nick soothes, and Harry follows his advice. “There’s still plenty of time to pick a name. We don’t need to do it now or tomorrow. We still got like, seven months left, right? So, go back to your boys, and when you get back to the bus tonight after the show, call or text me, and we’ll talk baby names then, all right love?”

“Yes,” Harry replies. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Good. Now, off you go. Go dazzle some young girls with your charming locks.”

*

“No, that colour is hideous. Absolutely not.”

Harry’s holding up paint samples from the sitting-room floor; the pile of _no_ getting bigger with the minutes while the _yes_ pile is still non-existent. 

“Niiiiiick,” Harry whines, and he crawls towards the other man. “It’s a soothing colour.”

“I don’t care. We’re not having a purple nursery.”

Harry pouts but still puts the sample on the _no _pile. “What colour _do_ you want?”__

__“Dunno. Can’t we just do like a standard baby colour or something?”_ _

__“Baby pink?”_ _

__“I was talking about blue, Harold.”_ _

__Harry doesn’t put up a fight, he likes blue, but there’s still about thirty shades of blue to choose from. Nick’s making this incredibly difficult._ _

__“What about Dodger Blue?”_ _

__He holds up a sample, one that looks suspiciously like the one after that (Bleu de France), and Nick snorts._ _

__“Where did you even get all these colours?”_ _

__“Zayn brought them yesterday.”_ _

__“Figures,” Nick sighs, and he takes the samples from Harry’s hand, quickly browsing through them. “I like this one. It’s blue, but a strong blue, not one of those that could be mistaken for green or summat.”_ _

__“What about Electric Indigo? It’s in the blue pile...” Harry plucks it from Nick’s fingers, and holds it up for him to see._ _

__“That’s not blue, that’s purple. If Zayn told you otherwise, he should get his eyes checked.”_ _

__In the end, they shuffle the pile around a bit, and Nick picks one with his eyes firmly closed. They pick again when they end up with ‘Oxford blue’, and it’s more of a black than a blue. The second try they get ‘Cornflower Blue’, and Harry nods and Nick shrugs, and two days later, Zayn and Liam are painting their nursery in a pale-blue colour._ _

__*_ _

__“This baby better be fucking worth it,” is the first thing Fiona tells him when Harry picks up the phone. It’s Saturday, one of Nick’s days off, and Harry’s on an official songwriting break, so the plan is to just spend all day in bed._ _

__“It is,” Harry replies hastily, and Nick shushes him, eyebrows creased in annoyance._ _

__“I’ve been up since five because my nose keeps bleeding, my breasts flipping hurt, and I can’t even walk into the kitchen to get a biscuit without getting out of breath. Tell me, does that sound like fun to you?”_ _

__“No?” Harry tries, and he turns the speaker on his phone a bit lower._ _

__“It isn’t. And do you know what the worst part is?” Fiona sounds agitated, and Harry tries not to let the guilt overtake him._ _

__“Not being able to get biscuits?”_ _

__“No. Well, yes, but no. The worst thing is that this is only the fourth month, and I still have five more months left.”_ _

__Harry pushes Nick’s arm off him, and gets out of bed. He’s quick to walk in the kitchen, and makes himself a cup of tea._ _

__“Maybe you should focus on the fun stuff?” he asks, and he can hear Fiona scoff from the other side of the line. “Like, next month, we can maybe feel the baby kick, and then in the sixth month we can get another echo to see it again, and then we’ll be at the nine-month mark in no time!”_ _

__“I know, I know,” Fiona sighs. “It’s just that I get dizzy whenever I try to get up to quickly, and these random nosebleeds are annoying as hell. I’m only going to become bigger and bigger, and I’m gonna get stretch marks all over my body, and these hormones are driving me absolute bonkers.”_ _

__Harry scribbles a quick note for Nick that he puts on the fridge. “Do you want me to come over? Fix you some brekkie, massage your back, whatever you want?”_ _

__“Could you do that?” Fiona asks with a small voice, and Harry doesn’t even hesitate._ _

__“’Course. Anything for you. Anything you want me to pick up on the way?”_ _

__“Some marinated anchovies?”_ _

__Harry gives himself a small pat on the back when he doesn’t remark how disgusting those are, and instead promises her that he’ll get her some, before he slips on some clothes and goes to the shops._ _

__*_ _

__The fifth month is remarkable._ _

__Harry’s at work with Nick and Fiona -he’s staying inconspicuously in a corner with the webcams turned off- and during a new Rihanna song, Fiona loudly gasps and grabs for Nick’s hand._ _

__“It’s moving!” she exclaims, and Nick is quick to turn the microphones off, his hand pressed firmly against her belly. His eyes are wide in wonder, and it only takes Harry a few seconds before he’s next to them, his own hand joining theirs._ _

__The baby is indeed moving, softly kicking right above Fiona’s belly button, and no amount of nasty Twitter replies can wipe the grin of Harry’s face that day._ _

__*_ _

__Around the sixth month mark, Harry is back on tour again. This time is Asia and Australia, and it’s slightly more relaxing with more days off and less shows, but it still hurts to leave Nick and Fiona behind._ _

__*_ _

__Seven months, and Harry’s getting nervous. Fiona sends him daily updates through text messages; pictures of her stomach and measurements that don’t mean anything to Harry, but he still appreciates the effort._ _

__It’s slowly sinking in that he’s actually becoming a _dad_ , and he has multiple breakdowns during the recording of their new album in LA. Niall keeps reminding him that Nick’s only a phone call away, and Zayn buys him all kinds of stuff for the baby which almost has Harry in tears again._ _

__*_ _

__Nick hands in his resignation somewhere around the seven-and-a-half month mark, and Harry wants to scream at him for being so stupid, but he can’t. Not when he’s on the other side of the world and he somehow completely understands._ _

__“Why didn’t you talk to me?”_ _

__It’s the first time he’s spoken since Nick dropped the bomb a minute ago, and he’s still not sure whether he feels betrayed or relieved._ _

__“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it,” Nick confesses and Harry thinks _yes, I would have.__ _

__“But it’s your dream job. It’s your life...”_ _

__It’s unfair when Nick has worked so hard for this, kept working so hard for this, but he also realises it’s not his decision to make._ _

__“It’s not, not anymore. I’m getting a new life, aren’t I? With you, and the baby. That’s gonna be so much better than doing a radio show in my opinion.” Nick sounds so sure of himself, and Harry is so, so proud of him._ _

__“Are you really sure? I mean, it’s _the_ Breakfast Show...”_ _

__“I am.” Nick doesn’t elaborate, but he sounds sure, and Harry can already picture it; Nick taking care of their baby, maybe visiting him on tour whenever he gets the chance, and Harry starts feeling all fuzzy again._ _

__“God, I love you,” he blurts out, and Nick laughs on the other side of the line._ _

__“Ditto, love.”_ _

__Zayn pokes his head around the corner, signalling that it’s almost his turn to record his verse, and Harry motions that he’ll be in in a bit._ _

__“Gotta go,” he sighs and Nick hums in reply. “I’ll talk to you later, all right? Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, like sell our house of something. Or adopt twenty kittens. One baby is gonna be enough.”_ _

__Nick laughs, and they say their goodbyes before Harry heads back into the studio. It’s three hours later that he realises that this means that Nick is going to be some sort of househusband, and Liam keeps giving him strange looks when he starts giggling uncontrollably._ _

__*_ _

__Eight months and Harry’s glad that he’s not the one that’s pregnant._ _

__Fiona keeps calling him to complain about back pains, sore stomachs, how tired she is, and how swollen her legs are. Harry wonders if Nick gets the same calls as well, or if he’s the only hearing about it, but then he figures that Nick sees her almost daily. He probably has to _deal_ with those problems first-hand, and Harry feels marginally better after that thought._ _

__*_ _

__He’s home for two weeks around Christmas before he’s heading off on another promo tour, and the nervousness feels like a never-ending thing. Fiona due-date is set around the twenty-seventh of December, and Harry can’t stop talking to anybody about it. Their nursery is done, they’ve bought an insane amount of clothes, and they both read all the pregnancy and childcare books that they could get their hands on._ _

__Nick mum invites them over for Christmas Day, while Anne insist on having them over for Christmas Eve, and Harry is just happy he doesn’t have to figure out how to cook a turkey for another year._ _

__*_ _

__Of course, Fiona has to ruin it all by going into labour on the morning of Christmas Eve._ _

__*_ _

__Labour is a messy thing._ _

__It’s a big blur of people running around, and nurses yelling at the two of them, and Nick’s starting to look a bit pale._ _

__“You all right?” Harry whispers to him, his hand squeezing Fiona’s tight. Nick nods from the other side of the bed, his eyes solely focused on Fiona’s face._ _

__“Of course he’s bloody all right!” Fiona almost screams at him, and Harry winces. “He’s not the one trying to squeeze a head the size of a football out of him, is he?!”_ _

__Harry quickly reassures her, shooting Nick a soft smile afterwards. Harry doesn’t really blame Nick; there’s a lot of blood, and if they weren’t standing in a room full of professionals, he’d be quite concerned as well._ _

__The next three hours are a lot of screaming from Fiona’s side, whispered reassurances from Nick, and a lot of breathing exercises from Harry. Fiona keeps yelling profanities at them, each one more ridiculous than the previous one, and if he wasn’t so scared of her, he’d record it all._ _

__*_ _

__Harry will deny it whenever somebody inevitably will ask, but he does in fact start crying when the nurse puts their daughter in his arms for the first time, and it isn’t the pretty kind of crying._ _

__Nick does as well, though, and that makes it slightly better._ _

__*_ _

__The adoption papers are signed within the next hour, and Harry’s heart almost jumps out of his chest when he sees his name along with Nick’s on the birth certificate._ _

__Fiona smiles tiredly but wistfully at Nick where he’s holding Lily in a chair in the corner. Harry carefully squishes himself next to her in bed, and rest his head on her shoulder._ _

__“You know you’re still her mum, right?” he asks quietly, and Fiona hums. “Me adopting her doesn’t mean- You’re still her mum. Maybe not legally, but we know. Nick and I know, and we’d never deny you that. Your his best friend, and we love you, and if you want to see her, you knock on our door whenever, and we’ll let you in.”_ _

__Fiona doesn’t reply, but Harry knows that she’s heard him when she softly squeezes his hand._ _

__*_ _

__“Louis is gonna hate her,” Harry mumbles while grazing his right pinkie along his daughter’s cheek. They’re at home, and Harry’s been basking in his new-dad glow all evening._ _

__Nick looks affronted and stops playing with the toes he’s holding. “Why would Tomlinson hate our daughter. Our perfect daughter, I might add.”_ _

__“Because he’s a Christmas baby too, and now she has stolen his thunder...” Harry sighs softly and his eyes open wide when Lily starts sucking on his finger. “I didn’t even wish him a happy birthday today.”_ _

__“He’s not gonna hate her. One day with her, and she’ll have him wrapped around her tiny little finger. He’ll forget he even has a birthday.”_ _

__Harry snorts in reply. “Have you met Louis?”_ _

__“I have, and I’m telling you he won’t mind. Have you seen her face?”_ _

__Harry has, and he knows what Nick means. Louis has it bad for babies and he definitely won’t be able to resist her tiny adorable face. Maybe he’ll even come up with a shared birthday party._ _

__“You’re right,” Harry mumbles._ _

__“I’m always right,” Nick replies and he presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Now, I figure we should start making some calls. Maybe cancel tea at your mum’s?”_ _

__Harry’s head snaps up and his eyes widen. “Fu- I can’t believe we didn’t do that at the hospital. I can’t believe we forgot.”_ _

__“I think everybody would forget when Fiona’s nearly ripping your arm off. Chin up, love. Everybody will forgive us when they see how adorable she is.”_ _

__“Fine, but you’re calling Niall. He already had his overnight bag packed for when Fiona goes into labour. He’s gonna be all disappointed.”_ _

__*_ _

__As it turns out, Louis doesn’t hold a grudge, Niall is more than humbled to be a godparent along with Aimee, and Liam brings Lily ridiculous baby-designer clothes. Zayn just stares lovingly at her for three hours, with Perrie giving him knowing looks._ _

__Nick invited everybody over for Christmas Day, and every inch of the sitting room is covered with food, friends, family, and family of friends. Harry hasn’t been able to hold his daughter for two hours straight now, her being handed over to the next person whenever she starts getting fussy, but he does have Nick pressed closed to his side, and that’s almost as good._ _

__“Hiya dad,” Nick whispers in his ear, and Harry grins in reply._ _

__“Hi dad,” he whispers back and his hand squeezes Nick’s thigh._ _

__“Would now be an appropriate time to ask you to marry me?”_ _

__Harry looks across the room -Fiona now quietly talking to Lily- before he smiles softly at Nick._ _

__“I think it would, yeah.”_ _

__Nick doesn’t get on one knee, and Harry honestly didn’t expect him to. Nick does however pry a ring from his back pocket, and right before he presses his lips softly against Harry’s, he mumbles “Marry me?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Harry kisses him back, and he jumps a little when Nick softly grabs his hand and slides a ring on his finger. It isn’t the grand proposal Nick promised him, but Harry doesn’t need one, and maybe this is just as perfect._ _

__It doesn’t take long before his mum notices the ring around his finger, and after that it’s a whirlwind of congratulations and smothering hugs from the boys. Perrie demands he doesn’t get married before she does (Harry makes no promises), Bobby starts crying for some unknown reason, and Nick’s mum just smiles at Harry with a proud eyes._ _

__It might be the best Christmas yet._ _

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi! on my [tumblr](http://brokenpartsmightfit.tumblr.com/) if you feel like it or if you just wanna talk about harry (and nick with babies).


End file.
